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If you liked the series be prepared for something different. If you don't like fluffy memoirs and so avoided the Midwife books, this one is worth reading as a well-written sociological memoir of the brutal lives of those who have so little they live on the fringes of society and no one much cares. Jennifer Worth did though, and thought their lives worth documenting.
The East End in Call the Midwife looks a lot like the real neighborhood of the time. Sophie Mutevelian The children in poor families were working to help support their families. From an early age, they worked in the home, helping their mothers who were dressmakers or laundresses. Ten year olds were taking care of all of the younger children for women who went out to work. Frequently ten year olds were working full time themselves in factories, or sewing, or cleaning.
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Her subsequent nursing jobs were at the Elizabeth Garrett Anderson hospital in Bloomsbury, and finally at the Marie Curie hospital in Hampstead. Jennifer married Philip Worth in 1963 and their two daughters, Suzannah and Juliette, were born. Having decided to embark on a musical career, Jennifer gave up nursing in 1973. She studied the piano and singing intensively, becoming a licentiate of the London College of Music in 1974, and was awarded a fellowship 10 years later. She taught and performed solo and in choirs throughout the UK and Europe. When she felt these musical talents ebbing, she turned to writing. Babies as premature as Conchita’s twenty–fifth child are never allowed to stay home today. Do you think he would he have survived if he had been taken to the hospital? The friendships between Jenny, the midwives, and the nuns was wonderful. There was no negative feelings, jealousy, or resentment between them even though they worked such long hours and were constantly under high pressure. They were supportive, caring, and all around good people.
The second part of the book tells the story of Sister Monica Joan, a 90-year-old nun who is accused of shoplifting. The third part is about the friendship that Jennifer develops for an elderly blind man who loses his home due to urban development. Within about six months these two little patches had spread to cover my entire body, from my forehead to my feet. My skin was sloughing off all over, water poured out of my body, my legs were swollen up to look like elephant legs. Jennifer never allowed the challenges of life to defeat her. Some years ago, she suffered from a painful bout of eczema and asthma. She undertook a regime of swimming and bicycling, as well as home cures, and detailed some of her ideas in Eczema and Food Allergy: The Hidden Cause? (1997). Despite everything, hope periodically shines through; both man and woman struggle (largely through maintaing their pride) to somehow make the best of the lot that birth has cast to them. Jennifer Worth rightly does not judge them; she achieves so very much more in her deft and honest telling of their, and her, experiences. In our present age, thanks to the National Heath Service (established 1948) and a comparatively extremely generous State Benefits system (largely set up between 1942 – 1948 and now expanding rapidly and unsustainably), such an absolute depth of brutal poverty as described by Jennifer Worth has thankfully become unknown. Frank and Peggy's relationship was engrossing to read about. They were siblings and also lovers, they didn't read as creepy or perverted though as their love came across as rather pure and beautiful. It wasn't a surprise they ended up being lovers, they didn't grow up together but since they only had each other and had no other love in their life the natural thing for them was to get together, it was the only thing that kept them going day to day. So yea, I was rooting for them to be happy, they should have been allowed that bit of peace. I was pissed that they had such a sad and somewhat bittersweet end.
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The structure of the book is anecdotal, but even I who dislikes short stories, was in no way disappointed. The sisters of the convent become as members of a family, each with their own idiosyncrasies. Each child born is a wonder. And Jennifer, the author, is surprisingly honest about her own weaknesses and failings. Four years ago this month, Jennifer was diagnosed with advanced cancer of the oesophagus. She declined treatment and sought to die in peace. Whoever heard of a midwife as a literary heroine? Yet midwifery is in itself the very stuff of drama and melodrama” (p. xi). Jennifer Worth's third book about her years serving as a midwife in London's East End in the 1950s was much darker than the first two. It was well-written and the stories were all compelling, but it covered some serious stuff, including babies who died during delivery, botched abortions, children killed by tuberculosis, a father who prostituted his daughter on a ship, and the Contagious Diseases Acts.
But "Call the Midwife" (which is also the name of the 2012 BBC series based on the books; the original title was just "The Midwife") was thankfully more than just a collection of childbirth stories. I ended up loving the social history of that postwar period. Jennifer Worth moved into a convent and became a midwife in the slums of London's East End, and she had good stories about the women she met and the trials of daily life for the lower classes.There was no house by the sea any more. It had been sold to one of my aunts, but Jennifer and I never went there again.” You learn of a brother and sister and another who becomes a close friend. They met and lived together in a workhouse as young kids—one was only two, one four and one six at the start. We meet them first as adults and wonder what has shaped them into who they are. The layout is good. You are curious; you want to know more. Their individual but also interconnected stories are grippingly told. Midwifery in the East End with some more youthful moments thrown in like friendships and a crazy night trip to Brighton!
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